


Untamed Hearts

by PiscesDragon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Actor Shiro (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BJYX but not, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Fame, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Singer/Dancer Keith, Thirsty Characters, What happens when Sheith/CQL/BJYX gets put in a blender and poured into a laptop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesDragon/pseuds/PiscesDragon
Summary: Keith Kogane is a singer, dancer, and sometimes actor who’s ready to take on a new challenge in the entertainment industry. His decision to remake a popular Chinese drama for an American audience leads to an unexpected and very close friendship with his co-star. The only problem? They’ve also completely fallen for each other. Working together, promoting the show and trying to keep their personal lives private are added complications when being out in the open could mean the end of a career — and keeping their feelings to themselves may be the only way they can protect each other.
Relationships: Allura/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I’ve recently fallen into MDZS/CQL/Untamed hell, and I think it’s going to be a while before the obsession wanes. Fair warning, this fic might be a trip :D
> 
> I’ve wanted to do an Actor Sheith AU for a while, and the new fandom really inspired this mashup. Full disclosure: I know very little about the entertainment industry, and I’m pulling the majority of this out of my butt. I apologize in advance for any inaccuracies. If you work in that field and notice any glaring errors, let me know and I will edit to fix them.
> 
> Those of you who are fans of “The Untamed” and the primary actors will probably notice a few similarities between the real life people and Shiro and Keith. I couldn’t really find a way to make everything line up nice and neatly, so I’ve taken some hobbies, characteristics, and elements of both XZ and WY and incorporated them into Shiro and Keith. (I’ll probably explain this more in the notes for later chapters.) I’ve watched a ton of behind-the-scenes video and interviews with the CQL actors (the time invested is ridiculous honestly), so there will be a lot of little things pulled and used from those and attributed to the VLD characters here.
> 
> My brain wanted more BJYX, but I'm resisting the urge to write fics about real people (that’s just my principles, no judgement to others who do), so I made them Shiro and Keith :D (My brain is a dangerous place sometimes!)
> 
> Thanks to narada-talis for taking on the beta for this fic!

Keith hadn’t been able to get Acxa’s suggestion out of his head for weeks. The more he thought about it, the more intrigued he became. He’d even gone so far as to track down the translated version of a book and _read_ it — something he hadn’t done by choice in so long he couldn’t remember when it last occurred. Of course, it probably helped that this particular content wasn’t the type of thing he’d been required to read in high school.

Then again, if gay romance novels had been on the reading list, Keith is positive he would have been a much better student.

The spark behind his idea for a new project was initially lit by his friend and personal assistant, Axca, who had somehow managed to convince him to binge watch an incredibly long Chinese drama over the course of one of his few free weekends. In truth, he’d come down with a horrible cold, which had not only put him out of commission for a few days, but left him weak and defenseless against her control of the remote control.

Acxa’s family was originally from China, and her command of the language was masterful — which wasn’t quite as enjoyable when Keith had to use the subtitles she couldn’t help but constantly make fun of. His suggestion for her to translate the entire thing for him in order so he could get an “accurate” understanding only resulted in a firm punch to his bicep.

It would have been nice to have a more nurturing friend to rely on when he felt like crap, but the list of people he was close to was incredibly short.

“I can’t believe you actually like this,” Keith said honestly as they watched the main characters float around on the screen with incredible grace and repeatedly stare into each other’s eyes. “You don’t even like guys.”

He liked the way the protagonists were dressed in black and white — the contrast, and their personalities, reminded him of the yin and yang tattoo he used to admire on his father’s shoulder as a child.

“Who doesn’t like a good love story?” Acxa replied with a shrug, digging around in the bottom of her bowl for the remaining few kernels of popcorn. “Besides, the guy that plays Wei Wuxian is prettier than most of the women I’ve met. Even I’d give that dick a shot.”

Keith glanced at her in shock, but couldn’t disagree. The man was _extremely_ hot, with a smile that could power a city block. Not his usual type, but certainly no hardship to watch on screen. And the other lead wasn’t bad on the eyes either. There was a reason Keith stuck around after the first episode, even with suffering through the annoyance of subtitles.

“Somebody should make a version of this in English,” he commented, only half joking. All the reading annoyed him, especially when he was sick and fighting a headache.

At least he had learned how to tell Acxa to ‘shut up’ in her native language, so it wasn’t a complete waste of time.

“You should do it,” said Acxa, pausing the episode to look at him in interest. “Aren’t you always talking about starting your own project?”

Keith’s mouth twisted up at one corner in a smirk. “I’m Korean,” he argued.

“Close enough,” Acxa retorted, flipping her hand in the air dismissively. “An American audience doesn’t know the difference, anyway. Asian is Asian.”

She had a point there. His own family background was kind of a mixed bag, but Keith had been called everything from Asian to Mexican to Middle Eastern over the course of his short life.

People were reliably incapable when it came to the racial identification of anyone who happened to be a natural shade of brown.

By the end of the weekend, and watching the series, Keith was a fan. Something about the fighting and magical elements, the complex storyline and the protagonist’s struggles all coming together really intrigued him. A few days later, Acxa mentioned to Keith that the series was based on a book, and from the information she’d gathered from her cousin, it was “the type of thing a disaster gay like you would enjoy”.

As if it was his fault dating and relationships were difficult for him. It wasn’t Keith’s fault his schedule was usually packed with travel and work — and races when he could manage it and his agent wasn’t having a coronary about the potential for injury. Having a career in both music and acting didn’t exactly leave him much free time for a personal life.

Of course, the book wasn’t available in English — how was that even possible in this day and age? — so Keith found a bootleg translation online. He devoured it in a matter of days, which had to be a record for him. Watching the series first probably helped, since most of the storyline was very similar, and he was familiar with the characters and foreign names. He was both shocked and impressed at the scenes that were cut from the television drama.

The main character’s alternative use of a sword toward the end of the novel was particularly… inspired.

(It made Keith wonder if instead of an American adaptation, he should be thinking about producing a porn. Maybe something to think about later, depending on whether it took off.)

After another few weeks of being drawn back to the characters and unable to get the idea out of his head, Keith had Acxa set up a meeting with Allura to get her input. She was a production executive for Altea Entertainment, her father’s company. It also happened to be a major media conglomerate, developing and producing everything from movies to music, and most recently, had even launched its own streaming platform. He’d heard they were looking for new content for the service, so with any luck, they might be interested in his pitch.

He’d worked with Allura before on other projects — the boy band he signed with in his teens was essentially owned and managed by Altea. At the time, Allura had been interning for the company while she went to college, and her father wanted her to learn the details of the business by working with each of the various departments.

Allura had acted as the group’s manager for almost a year, which was the only reason Keith knew her so well. As the designated leader of the band, Keith had butted heads with Allura on more than one occasion, and their working relationship had definitely been rocky from time to time. But even though she had occasionally been difficult to deal with, they eventually became friends — especially once she started dating his friend Lance. He had also been a member of _Distinct,_ their former band, and the reason Allura’s tenure as their manager was cut short.

Allura moved on to other projects, and not long after the group decided _Distinct_ had run its course. After years of either being stuck in a recording studio or on the road, they were all ready to move on to new projects. When their five year contract expired, Keith had finally been free to move on to other pursuits.

Now, at age 21, Keith had a few hit singles to his name and had completed a couple of mildly successful TV projects. Though he was still better known for his singing and dancing ability, he had a large fan base and enough success that approaching Allura about building a project of his own wasn’t completely ridiculous.

“Keith!” Allura exclaimed with a bright smile as she looked up from her desk when he walked into her office. “What can I do for you?”

“Hey!” he greeted her with a returning grin. He walked to the chairs in front of her desk, eyes looking around the room to take it all in. “Nice digs. New office?”

She’d been moved up to the top floor since the last time Keith had the need to visit her at work. The room was very large with a clean, contemporary style. The high ceilings, bright white walls and enormous windows to the side of her desk made the space even more spacious. It was no surprise Allura had arranged things so she could easily look outside. The view of Arus with the mountains in the distance was impressive.

“Yes,” Allura answered, an embarrassed blush on her cheeks as she came around the desk to give him a quick hug. “Father felt it was time for me to move up — literally — now that I’ve finished my degree.”

Keith gave her a tight smile. He couldn’t help but be a little jealous of Allura’s relationship with her father. The man not only supported and encouraged her work, but in many ways treated her like a princess — the obvious heir to the entertainment kingdom he had built.

His own father had died when he was ten, and he’d only recently reconnected with his mother. Even though his foster family had been supportive, and in many ways were the reason he was in the successful position he’d managed today, they had been only a brief participant in his life.

Keith wondered what it must be like to have someone like Allura did — a constant figure to trust and rely on. Although Keith now had a handful of people he would call friends, it was difficult to get past the loneliness he faced on a near daily basis.

“So… What’s up?” Allura asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. “I was surprised to see you on my schedule. It’s unusual to see you in the corporate building, unless there are contracts to be signed. It must be something important if we can’t discuss it with Lance at our regular dinner get-togethers.”

She gestured for Keith to sit on the spotless, light-grey couch, the rectangular structure appearing stiff and uninviting, but actually quite comfortable as he settled on it. Allura perched next to him, straight-backed and expectant with her hands clasped in her lap.

“Well, you know I’ve been thinking about doing my own projects for a while now…” Keith began, suddenly realizing he may have come unprepared for pitching his idea. His voice wavered with unexpected nerves. “Something kind of came to me that I can’t stop thinking about. It’s not really a new thing, but would be more of an American adaptation?”

Allura hummed in response, her head nodding in encouragement.

“So, there’s this Chinese drama I watched recently,” he continued, pitch rising with excitement. “It’s really good — different, you know? And it’s based on a book, but it’s all in Chinese. I was thinking it could be a big hit if it was reworked for an English-speaking audience.”

“So what’s the hook?” Allura asked, brows drawn together in confusion. “What’s so unique about this you think it will be worth the investment?”

“Well, there’s an element of sorcery,” Keith explained slowly. Scowling at himself for not coming better prepared for the pitch, he continued, “And martial arts… Magic and violence are always big sellers, right?”

“Yes… ok?” It wasn’t a question but more of a prompt to give her more information.

“It’s ultimately a love story,” Keith spit out, the words rushing out like rapids in a stream.

“Well, that’s nothing new,” Allura replied offhand. “Sex always sells.”

“It’s two men,” Keith quickly clarified. His eyes bored into hers, willing her to understand the concept he was trying to sell her on. Unfortunately, he’d never been good with words without a script.

“Oh! Well… yes, that’s different.” Allura’s eyes widened briefly in surprise before she immediately regulated her expression. “Did you say this was a program in China?”

“Yeah, though it was really censored a lot,” Keith noted. “But even with leaving out basically all of the sexual elements, it’s a really romantic story. The actors actually did an excellent job of bringing that across. Here, let me just show you?”

Knowing he was doing a horrible job of explaining the material, Keith pulled his phone out of his jacket and opened one of the video clips he’d saved. The plan had been to send them to Allura later, but at the rate he was going, he needed some help for her to take this seriously.

She took the phone in hand, watching the short video with interest. “Yes, I can see what you’re talking about. Is there a kiss in the next part of that scene?”

“No, but that’s what I’m saying,” Keith said excitedly, his passion for the project leaking into his voice. “There’s a lot more romance in the book that’s missing in this adaptation. I think we could push the envelope with the script if we produce it here. I mean, you probably wouldn’t want to use a lot of the material at the end of the novel, because it’s basically porn, but the bulk of it is really, really good.”

“Ok, but Keith… why?” Allura questioned, having clearly set aside her _friendship_ hat for an invisible _business executive_ visor. “Tell me _why_ you think this story needs to be told here?”

Keith took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He knew Allura wouldn’t be satisfied or persuaded by anything short of complete honestly. “Allura, you know me. You know I’ve done nothing for the last seven years but skirt the line about who I am. There’s an element of that in this story that really… That I really identify with.”

Allura reached over to take his hand gently, her eyes soft.

Fearing his emotions would overtake him, Keith went for blunt instead. “I’ve got the legal right to marry whoever I want in this country, Allura, but finding that portrayed anywhere, outside of porn or the occasional play, is almost impossible. The LGBT+ community has been begging for years to get more representation — to make our experiences more _normalized_ — because that would lead to a better understanding and more acceptance. Just…” he swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. “There’s _so much potential_ with the way this material builds and weaves, Allura. And there’s already a pretty major fan base. I think there could be a project there. It could be really great.”

His voice had gone weak and thready at the end of his speech, and he hid his eyes from Allura, feeling overexposed. There were certain things Keith very rarely talked about, and even though his friends knew about his personal life, there was no way for them to really understand how much he struggled with it.

Allura stared at him for a moment before she pulled her hand away and leaned back, causing Keith to glance back in her direction. He couldn’t be sure, but he hoped her expression was more impressed than dissatisfied.

“Ok,” she said firmly. “I’ll take a look at the material. Send me the info on whatever is out there about the content, and I’ll let you know what I think.”

He let out the breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. “Thanks, Allura.”

“Don’t thank me yet!” she said with a small smile pulling at one corner of her mouth. “Even if I like it, there are still a lot of hoops to jump through before anything gets a full green light around here.”

“That’s ok,” Keith said quickly. “I really appreciate you even considering it. And I’m booked through the rest of the year with _Vocal Discovery,_ so I wouldn’t be able to give all of my focus to something else for a while, anyway.”

“I still can’t believe you agreed to do that show,” Allura commented with a smirk. 

The reality show he currently worked on was another Altea production, somewhat similar to the program where Keith had gotten his start. Instead of building a boy band, the judges were tasked with selecting talent and then training them to compete against each other. Keith’s contestants always seemed to have a leg up with their dancing, since that was an area where he excelled.

“Hey, I could do without the cameras everywhere, but I actually kind of like it,” Keith admitted with a shrug. “It’s nice being able to help people develop and improve. And I get to choreograph some of their performances. It’s fun.”

Allura smiled at him. “From what I’ve seen, you’re good at it.”

Keith looked away, embarrassed at the praise. He’d gotten used to the empty compliments of fans, television personalities and late night talk show hosts. Hearing them from people he actually knew — and respected — still wasn’t easy for him.

“Really, Keith,” Allura went on, ignoring his discomfort. “Your team always seems to respect you and value your opinion. They listen to you and trust your judgement. You’re very honest with them.”

 _Too honest,_ Keith wanted to point out. He wasn’t very good at sugar-coating things or using kid-gloves with people, and the first two seasons of the show had been difficult. Quite a few of the singers on his team hadn’t responded very well to Keith’s management style, and it had taken some time for him to learn how best to deal with being in charge of a group of overly dramatic individuals.

Eventually, Keith had adapted. He’d learned to pick his battles and try to recognize situations that required a little more finesse. He wasn’t always successful, and there were still issues from time to time, but that just made for better reality television.

And earned him a very generous raise for the next year from Altea, which produced and distributed the show. It was his second year of working on the show, and they were in the midst of recording the fourth season. Keith had been ready to hand it off to a new “coach”, but his increasing popularity meant the show might lose viewers if he left. So Keith’s agent ensured Altea made it worth his while to stick around a bit longer.

But if they got this new show off the ground, he’d have a good excuse to leave, and Altea couldn’t complain too much if he was still tied to them and their productions.

*****

True to her word, Allura did her research. Only a month or so after their meeting Keith received a call from Allura’s assistant, asking him to contact the office at his earliest convenience. At first Keith was confused as to why Allura wouldn’t just send a text if she needed something. She and Lance had just had dinner with him a few weeks ago, so they weren’t due for another gathering quite yet. Then he remembered the project idea, and called her back quickly, assuming Allura was going through the professional routes in order to avoid the appearance of favoritism for a friend’s project.

“I’m interested,” Allura stated in lieu of a greeting the moment the line connected.

There was a soft click on the line as Allura put the phone on speaker mode and Keith’s stomach dropped to his knees in shock.

“Really?” he asked, his voice hushed. His knees went wobbly and his butt dropped into the nearest chair, and he was suddenly very glad to be at home where he could revel in the news in peace.

“Yes, really.” Keith could hear the smile in Allura’s voice, and it melted some of the nerves coursing through him. “We’re going to run with it and see what happens.”

“I can’t believe it,” Keith said, still in complete shock. He was actually going to be helping to produce something — and not only that, but a show that would be truly worthwhile and meaningful to a lot of people.

“As I’m sure you are aware, the first step is creating the pilot,” Allura began to explain as Keith’s mind raced with possibilities. “There’s a lot to get done in that regard. When we discussed this before, you weren’t necessarily clear on the role you want to take in this project…”

Keith’s breath caught in his throat as he realized he could easily be cut out of the process altogether. “I’d like to help produce it. I’ve never done that before, but I’m willing to do whatever we need to get this going. Is that a problem?”

“No, Keith, of course not,” Allura reassured him quickly. “I thought as much, with how invested you were in the idea when we spoke last month. There’s just… there’s one caveat I’d like to add to green-lighting this, but I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it…”

Her voice trailed off, tinged with nerves in a way Keith rarely heard from his strong-willed friend.

“I guess you might as well just tell me,” Keith replied. “It can’t be that bad.”

He heard Allura take a deep breath as if preparing to drop a bomb, and his heart thudded with worry. _Was she going to want to change a lot of the story? Move the setting and change it to a spaceship? What_ _could_ _she_ _possibly_ _be so worried about?_

“You have to star in it.”

Keith was very glad he was already sitting down.

That… That was something he’d never really considered about the entire idea.

And maybe he should have.

“Me?” he asked as his heart pounded so loudly he was sure Allura could hear it through the phone. “Really? Why me? There are plenty of other guys out there with a ton of talent.”

It’s not like the process of acting was completely foreign to Keith. He’d done some guest roles on shows over the last few years and had even played the lead in a couple of short films that had been surprisingly well-received. But his skills and background were in singing and dancing, not acting.

And what they were planning to create was a huge stretch from anything he’d done before.

“You’re very talented yourself, Keith,” Allura gushed, making him glad they were only having the discussion over the phone. Had she seen the way his cheeks flushed at her praise, Keith knew she would have teased him to no end. “More importantly, you’ve got a fan base and you’re recognizable to people. If we add that to the worldwide fans the book and other adaptations already have, along with the population this should appeal to, it means our potential audience is already extremely large without even having to do much marketing and promotion. We’d only need half of that pool of viewers to tune in and it would automatically be a success.”

Keith knew enough about the business to follow her logic. Alone, his fame wasn’t necessarily enough to carry a show — he was no A-list celebrity. But combined with the potential LGBT viewers and people already familiar with the original content, having someone people recognized and wanted to see could gain them an audience quickly.

“Which part are you thinking?” he asked, rolling the idea over in his mind. “Lan Wangji?”

Keith wasn’t physically built for the part necessarily, but the character was more the strong, silent type. Being cold and keeping to himself wouldn’t be too difficult for Keith — he would essentially be playing himself.

Allura answered quietly, “No, I was more thinking you would be our Wei Wuxian.”

“What?” The disbelief was crystal clear in his voice. She wanted him to take the _lead_ role? The objections began pouring from his mouth before Keith could even process the information. “It’s a period drama, Allura. I’ve got no experience… There’s no way I can —”

“Keith,” his friend interrupted firmly, startling him out of his arguments. “I really think you can do something great with this. I’ve seen your other work, and Lance isn’t the only person I’ve heard gush about the short films you’ve done. Those certainly fall in the genre of drama, and adding a few costumes and period sets won’t change how capable you are.”

He’s stunned into silence at how _sure_ Allura sounds — how convinced she is that he’s _good,_ that he’s enough of an actor to carry the entire project on his shoulders.

If only Keith had an ounce of her confidence.

“I don’t know, Allura…” Keith said slowly. “That’s… a lot.”

The personality of the character was nothing like him — Wei Wuxian was fundamentally a happy-go-lucky person, which was as far from Keith’s general seriousness as one could get. But other elements hit closer to home: the man was smart, and he faced a lot of challenges. His choices affected his path, and ultimately Wei had to decide what kind of person he wanted to be.

Though perceived as a villain, the man was inherently kind and virtuous — and his struggle with good and evil certainly drew Keith to the story.

Allura wasn’t ready to let him off the hook, though. “How about this. Think about it, alright? I’ve still got to get the rest of the team together and hire writers and get a script. We won’t be ready to cast for a while. When we get to that point, if the team doesn’t feel you’re the best fit, we can go another direction.”

It took Keith a moment to catch on to what she was really saying. “Wait… Are you going to be the showrunner for this?”

“Yes,” Allura answered. “I’ve decided to take this one on myself.”

Keith didn’t think he would hear any more surprises today, but Allura seemed to be full of them. He was shocked — as far as he knew, Allura had never taken on a project at that level before.

“Wow…” he commented after a moment. “Have you… done that before?”

“No, but there’s a first time for everything,” Allura replied. “I felt it would be necessary for this project — that we would have the best chance of success — if I was behind it fully.”

It didn’t take Keith long to translate Allura’s polite business speak — getting a show about gay romance approved by the higher ups in the production company would be an impossible sell without the president’s daughter in charge of it. Even then, Keith knew, there was no guarantee they’d be able to get past the pilot stage.

The fact that Allura would be willing to do this, to put her reputation on the line for Keith’s project, is more than he’d ever expected. Either she really believed in the potential of the story, or she really believed in Keith. Either way, he had a feeling he was going to owe Allura for a very long time.

“Ok,” Keith agreed, but he wasn’t willing to attach himself without a few caveats. “But just so we’re clear, I get to be involved with development and casting, right?”

“Of course,” Allura answered. “You’re the top executive producer on this project, Keith. Although we haven’t discussed the financial end of this deal yet. Are you willing to help fund this project?”

“Yeah, definitely,” he quickly replied. “I wouldn’t have come to you with something I wasn’t willing to invest in.”

“Ok, good,” Allura said. “We’ll set up a meeting at some point to discuss the costs and budget once I’ve got a script.”

In truth, Keith hadn’t given much thought to that end of the business. He had a decent amount of money to play with — hopefully he would just have to fund the pilot, and if Altea picked it up, they would handle the rest. The idea crossed his mind that he should set up a separate company for financing projects to keep his personal income secure, and Keith made a mental note to contact his manager and attorney about the legalities of this new step in his career.

“That’s fine. I probably should make some calls on that before we get to contracts and signatures,” Keith said, and Allura hummed in agreement. “But just so we’re clear, I’m only in if they leave in the core romance. It’s only ever alluded to in the other version, but the couple gets married in the novel. That’s one of the things that make it such a big deal.”

“I assure you, that won’t be a problem,” confirmed Allura. “We may have to omit scenes that are explicit, depending on which platform we use for distribution, but there are a few key scenes we can push the envelope with that I’m quite looking forward to.”

“Wow… I never pegged you as the fujoshi type, Allura,” Keith laughed, hoping he wouldn’t have to explain the reference to her.

“Yes, well. The novel was very… eye opening, let’s say,” his friend said, sounding suddenly shy and without the brash confidence Keith was used to.

And… that was awkward. Realizing that Allura had obviously read the text, and was imagining _Keith_ as one of the leads, was an uncomfortable thought he didn’t think he was prepared to process yet.

He cleared his throat nervously. “Yeah, well, I don’t know how comfortable I am with stripping on screen, so I guess we’ll have to figure all of that out at some point.”

 _Oh my God,_ Keith thought. _I’m_ _actually_ _considering this…_

“We can worry about those details farther out,” Allura said. “Once we get the pilot and a script outline, the rest of it can all be negotiated. But Keith,” she paused, her voice going softer, “have you thought about how _personally_ difficult this could potentially be for you?”

He was thrown by her question. “What do you mean?”

“You maintain a very strict control on your private life, and I certainly understand why,” Allura said gently. “I want to make sure you understand that attaching your name to this project — especially if you take the lead role — could jeopardize your ability to keep certain things quiet.”

It took Keith a moment to catch on. “You’re afraid doing this will be outing myself?”

“The potential is there, yes,” Allura answered. “I want to make sure you understand that if this goes forward, if it is successful in the way we hope and expect, you will be promoting it. Which means being subject to interviews with uncomfortable questions you’ve so far been able to avoid.”

“That’s not a problem, Allura,” Keith answered easily. He’d been doing talk shows since the band hit it big. “I’ve learned how to skirt questions.”

“I just want to make sure you are aware of the risks,” she said. “You’re my friend, Keith. I don’t want to see you permanently damage your career for a project that, at most, will only last a few years.”

Although Keith didn’t want to admit it, Allura made a very good point. The truth was there were no major, top-tier actors in the business who were openly gay. Some others, whose popularity rose to a point they considered “safe”, had come out of the closet only to find that suddenly there were a lot fewer parts on offer. He’d seen a number of television stars happily declare their “pride” over the years, only for them to disappear from the tabloids and entertainment discussions.

Homosexuality, while widely accepted on sets, at parties and in the entertainment industry at large in regard to minor players, was still not good for an entertainer’s career. It was the reason Keith rarely dated or even considered it.

If it didn’t work out, he couldn’t trust people not to ruin him.

When he got desperate enough, it was just easier to pay for sex from a reputable party with an ironclad non-disclosure agreement in place.

“It’ll be fine, Allura,” Keith assured her. “I’ll handle it. Don’t worry.”

Ultimately, it was worth the risk. This project had the ability to be a game changer, and he wanted to be part of it. Besides, there was still no certainty that Keith would even be playing the lead role, and as a mere producer he could easily sidestep any interview questions that got too close for comfort.

They arranged a time to get in contact regularly, so that Allura could keep him up to speed on the project as it moved forward, and Keith disconnected the call and dropped his phone next to him. There were a jumble of emotions running through him - from fear to elation to nerves - but he couldn’t keep the smile from spreading over his face.

His project was actually going to happen.

*****

Everything began moving forward over the next several months. Allura and the other executives she brought onto their team had conducted research and determined that the project would be better received as a drama released on Altea’s new streaming service. Keith wasn’t surprised at all by this — he’d never expected the main story line to be something they would consider for prime-time network television, anyway.

He was given the script for the initial pilot, making a few comments and suggestions to send back to the writers, and he’d been happy with the final drafts of the episode outline. They had definitely played up the supernatural elements of the material as well as the fighting, which looked like it had been tailored to a Western audience, with less of the artistic style of swooping and flying.

Keith was also pleasantly surprised to see how little was censored, though he was still well aware that the outlining was subject to change if Altea picked up the pilot. As everything became less of an idea and more “real”, Keith began to realize how much the role was going to make him stretch and test his acting abilities. He hoped whoever they eventually cast as the other lead would be able to handle the demands of the role.

Allura asked if he wanted to be part of the casting process, since as a producer he was entitled to take part if he chose. She would never allow him the power to make sole decisions, but he was welcome to be a part of the process.

Keith had never been involved in the back-end of casting, and having become familiar with the other version of the material, he was afraid he would just compare the actors to what he’d previously seen. It was better to let whatever director they hired help make those decisions. He left the bulk of the casting to Allura with the caveat that it needed to be authentic.

“I swear to God, Allura, if I see any white people in Ancient China, I’m gonna walk,” Keith told her, only half joking. Besides the relationship between the two main characters, the other thing he definitely wanted to accomplish with the project was tearing down as many walls for Asian actors as possible.

Allura laughed. “Point taken.”

“Seriously,” Keith reiterated, trying not to glare at her through the video call. “There are a ton of great actors and not a lot of roles for minorities. If I’m going to be part of this, I want it to be done right. This industry does enough white-washing. I’m trusting you.”

She nodded at him, her expression grave. “I promise, Keith. I won’t let you down on this.”

*****

It was a few more months before he heard anything more from Allura about the project — and even then it was mostly with information he didn’t really care about or questions about things he had no opinion on.

“I trust you and your people,” Keith reminded her. And it was true — Altea did good work. They cut corners where they could, like any production company, but never where it counted.

Coran Wimbleton-Smythe was brought on as the director and things picked up speed. Keith began getting weekly updates on the secondary roles they’d been filling, the locations scouted, and other details on the production side that he wasn’t used to being involved with. He’d never realized how many things went on behind the scenes of a show or how much planning and preparation was involved in the process. He didn’t envy Allura’s job — she had undertaken a much bigger role than he would ever want to manage himself.

A few weeks after Keith finished filming and wrapped up work on the reality show he’d been working on, he got a call from Romelle, Allura’s assistant. 

“They need you to come in for the next casting meeting.”

“Why?” Keith asked. “I told them I wasn’t worried about being involved with any of that.”

“It’s showtime, star boy.” Keith could hear her smirk through the phone speaker. “They’ve got your lead partner narrowed down to three people. They need you to come run lines and do test shots so they can make a decision.”

For some reason, Keith was nervous. There was a lot riding on this now — so much work had already been done. What if he couldn’t fake a connection with any of them? What if he wasn’t good enough to handle the role?

Romelle sent over bios and headshots of the guys through email for Keith to look over before the meeting. He deleted the picture files, not wanting to pass judgement and knowing he’d be too biased, and instead looked over their work history. They were all decent, but he couldn’t help make some assumptions about each of them.

The first guy, Steven, was clearly not going to be a match. First of all, he was a lot older than Keith, so unless he had one hell of a baby face, the visuals probably weren’t going to work out well. He _did_ have years of experience in voice work and TV dramas and even a few South Korean projects. Keith couldn’t help but be impressed. Even if this particular project didn’t work out, he kind of hoped they might get to work together at some point in the future.

As it turned out, Keith wasn’t wrong about Steven’s shot at the part. He’d been friendly enough through introductions, actually making Keith feel relaxed during a casting call, which was a feat all by itself. But Keith wasn’t wrong about them not looking quite right together. All through the test shots, Keith could see Coran’s mustache twitching from the corner of his eye. He knew from brief experiences with the director that was not a good sign. 

And when they started to read through lines, things got _very_ strange. Keith could swear the man’s voice reminded him of watching his own playbacks. When they stopped to reset, he overheard one of the PA’s incredulously ask the staff member next to them, “Is it just me or do they have the same voice??”

It wasn’t long after that Coran shouted, “No no no! This will never work!”

Keith gave the other actor an apologetic look. Maybe it was because they were both Korean? Keith had never been there. Maybe the whole country shared a unique, raspy vocal range.

Allura pulled the poor guy over to discuss other roles they needed to cast that he might be better suited for.

When the next contender came in, Keith choked on his water. He quickly set it off to the side to avoid spilling it and making an idiot of himself. Simu Liu was H-O-T. He didn’t know they made men like that in China — or Canada — or wherever the hell he was from. He was only slightly taller than Keith, with small eyes, hair so black he had blue highlights under the lights and a kind smile. Keith could not take his eyes off the man’s arms, though. The curved bulges of those biceps called out to be touched, and Keith just knew the rest of him was equally impressive under the tight white button-down he wore.

Something clicked in his brain through his minor gay panic that this was the man whose background included stunt work. He had a long list of minor work otherwise, but Keith could tell by looking at him the physicality of the role wouldn’t be an issue.

They ran through a scene a few times, taking video at some point, and stood around for some shots and that was that. Coran and the other executives looked pleased, and Keith was fairly certain they had their guy. He even threw the actor a wink and a grin as he shook his hand before he left, getting a sunny smile in return before he sailed out the door.

Relieved that the pressure was off, Keith relaxed into a chair. He wondered if Coran and the others would even want to see the final actor they’d brought in.

The last guy, Keith remembered from his bio, was nothing to write home about. His background was _sparse,_ with just a few minor TV roles and not much else. Keith was surprised they were interested in anyone with so little experience for such a large role.

Or he was — until the man walked in the room. And Keith promptly swallowed his tongue while gripping the arms of his chair with white knuckles, as if it would physically prevent his soul from escaping his body the way it was trying to.

If the last actor in the room had been attractive, this one was a GOD. 

He towered over almost everyone else in the room, and Keith knew when he stood next to him, he’d be craning his neck to see his face. Keith’s eyes couldn’t help but begin at the floor and work their way up the mountain of a man. 

His body stretched the limits of every piece of clothing he had on - black jeans doing nothing to hide the thick thighs Keith’s fingers twitched at getting his hands on, and a maroon henley hardly hiding the muscular chest, broad shoulders, and arms so powerful Keith just knew they could crush him if he tried.

Keith hadn’t even gotten a good look at his face yet, with the man’s head turned toward the executive he was speaking to, and he already knew he’d be willing to let the guy press him into the floor. Or bend him into a pretzel. Or… 

“The source material did specify that your Lan Zhan was incredibly attractive,” Allura’s voice said quietly in his ear, her voice knowing as she tried to distract him from his daydream.

Keith couldn’t pull his eyes away from the amazing figure across the room.

“Pidge,” Allura’s voice was louder as she called to his assistant standing against the opposite wall. “Can you get Keith some more water? He looks thirsty.”

The jab and Pidge’s bark of a laugh went right over his head when the head of dark brown hair attached to the body he’d been ogling turned to face him, and Keith’s eyes were caught and immediately drowning in light brown pools. The man’s eyes widened as he stared at Keith, his lashes long and dark and he seemed to have eyeliner on, complete with a perfect winged cat’s eye effect. His square jaw and high cheekbones were so sharp it looked like he’d been carved by a Renaissance artist, and a perfectly tousled flop of bleached white hair lay over his forehead.

The only imperfection to be found on his features was a very light scar that ran right over the bridge of his nose. Yet even that was perfectly symmetrical and almost seemed like a purposeful addition to his face. Keith wondered if the man might be too beautiful without the scar, like a flaw was put there so that mere mortals like him wouldn’t be blinded.

Then the man smiled as he started to walk toward him, and Keith’s brain melted like a bolt of sunshine had been shot straight into his head.

Somehow, he found the physical coordination to stand up on shaky legs when the man got to him, drawing on every ounce of his acting skills to portray an aura of nonchalance while being convinced he was failing horribly if Pidge’s facial expression was anything to go on.

“I’m Takashi Shirogane,” the man said, holding out a large — _so large_ — hand that Keith’s slipped into and disappeared when the other wrapped around it. A shiver tripped down the small of Keith’s back, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the contact or the timbre of the actor’s deep voice. “But you can call me Shiro.”

Keith had never been so instantly attracted to anyone in his entire life.

This was going to be a holy fucking nightmare.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the cast in place, the real work begins. As Keith begins filming the pilot episode of his show, he gets to know his co-star and finds that being in close contact with him is even more of a challenge than he thought it would be.
>
>>   
> Keith pushed his thirst into a corner of his brain and locked the lid tight. He would not be some gay disaster in front of a guy he barely knew and had to work with for the next few weeks.
>> 
>> And then, Shiro began correcting Keith’s form.
>> 
>> What started as touches here and there on arms and shoulders, turned into a hand on Keith’s back and then his ribs. Shiro didn’t have any way to know the effect he was having, but every time his hand landed on a new spot, Keith’s breath caught in his throat until he began to worry he might hyperventilate.
>> 
>> He reminded himself that, as a dancer, he was used to this kind of treatment. When he’d been younger and learning to dance, his teachers would often physically maneuver his body into the right posture and positions.
>> 
>> But none of his dance or drama teachers had ever been over six feet tall and so thick Keith wanted to climb him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been willing to give this fic a shot!
> 
> Big thanks to narada-talis for being my beta on this one!

The entire project had gone so incredibly smoothly, Keith should have known the universe would throw a wrench into his life at the most inopportune moment. It was too much to ask for things to stay simple and comfortable while he took on the added stress of a lead role _and_ being an active member of the production team.

Unfortunately, the person causing Keith’s entire world to tilt off center was also his co-star.

Takashi Shirogane had completely blown everyone away at the casting call. He had effortlessly embodied the character of Lan Wangji, exhibiting both a cold, serious expression and an ability to fill up the entire room with his presence. Before Keith had even looked at the playback of the scene they ran through together, he had no doubt Shiro lit up the screen, drawing the eyes of an audience without even trying.

Keith had enough trouble trying to keep his own eyes off the man, as if magnetized to his beauty. Hearing Shiro pitch his voice just a touch deeper for the role made a warmth pulse low in Keith’s belly, and he had to tamp it down quickly in order to read his own lines without stuttering like an amateur.

Since the pilot episode involved very little interaction between the two leads, the scene they read for casting was a mock up of dialogue from the novel — a scene that would come later if it actually got picked up for a full series. In essence, Keith’s character had been caught breaking the rules and tried to flirt his way out of it. The casting director and team decided it would be a good way to test the chemistry of the potential leads as well as the actor for Lan Wangji. He needed to be able to remain aloof while still giving some hint about the effect Wei Wuxian had on him. For Keith’s part, the dialogue was playful and mischievous — far from his general persona, but not too difficult to generate given the handsome man standing a few feet away.

Unable to completely contain his instant attraction to the other actor, Keith instead took a shaky breath and just ran with it. It was easier to embrace those emotions and use them for his performance than to waste energy trying to quash them, and risk dragging his portrayal down with it.

Safely encasing himself in his character, Keith flirted and teased the other man relentlessly, pouting when Lan Wangji ruined his wine and making a determined effort to break through the cold demeanor of the other man. For his part, Shiro wasn’t moved, remaining stoic and fierce, but there was something in his eyes that gave away a hint of interest. A fire burned there, as if much more teasing would make him snap and punish Wei Wuxian in all the best ways.

Something almost electric happened when they played their roles, making Keith wonder if reaching out to touch the other man might elicit a physical spark in the air. For just a moment, Keith forgot himself — forgot he was only pretending to desperately gain the other man’s attention — and when the scene ended, it took him a few seconds to recenter.

“Wow!” Shiro smiled and laughed, snapping Keith out of his dazed focus on a spot on the carpet while he swallowed the dryness in his throat. “You’re _so_ good!”

Keith licked his lips and looked up at him sheepishly.

“Thanks. You too,” he said quietly, before slipping away to find Pidge and the water he found himself desperately in need of.

They hadn’t really interacted after that, with Keith avoiding Shiro while surreptitiously sneaking glances at him from across the room. His assistant snickered at him as the other actor talked quietly for a few minutes with the director and others. Before he left though, Shiro made a point to find Keith.

“Hey, I just wanted to say thanks again,” Shiro said, reaching out to shake Keith’s hand once more. A noticeable blush darkened his cheeks. “It was really great to meet you and get the chance to read with you. I’m a big fan of your stuff.”

“Oh!” Keith replied, startled that Shiro would be familiar with his work. The taller man’s grin was contagious, and Keith couldn’t help but smile back. “Thanks, man.”

When he left, Keith’s gaze followed Shiro’s broad shoulders all the way out the door.

“Keith,” Allura called his attention back to the team. “Come take a look at the video, will you?”

Her bright smile made him nervous about what he was about to see. Coran and a few others were still huddled around the laptop, pointing out little details to each other and commenting on elements they liked. The group got quiet as he approached the table, his eyes falling on the large screen as the casting director brought the video back to the beginning.

The visuals were… good. If he was being fully honest with himself, they were _amazing._ There was no denying the fact that he and Shiro looked _really_ good together on-screen. Keith’s sharp, delicate features and large eyes — so often described as feminine, to his severe consternation — contrasted nicely with Shiro’s square jaw and the masculine lines of his face.

Their size difference was significant, but without making Keith look like some kind of waif. Shiro was a good three inches taller, with much broader shoulders and a wider overall frame, but he didn’t dwarf Keith completely. Instead, as he watched himself move closer to Shiro on the screen without quite touching him, it looked as though they would fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

Watching the way they interacted on the screen, the chemistry was palpable. It didn’t take much to imagine how with the addition of costumes and props, the two actors could portray the delicate relationship very well. In just their first interaction, the dance between friendship and romance came across clearly on the screen.

The casting director clapped his hands excitedly. “I think we have our Lan Wangji!”

As the rest of the room began to chatter with each other, thrilled to finally have the last piece of casting in place, Keith’s stomach jumped and then dropped, as if a war between excitement and horror was breaking out in his intestines.

Taking a deep breath and telling himself everything would be fine, Keith pasted on a bright smile and scanned the room for Allura. There was still a lot to do before filming started.

*****

He hadn’t seemed like an asshole at the casting call, yet Keith secretly hoped Shiro had been on his best behavior and in reality suffered from a very foul personality. It would be a lot easier to keep his stupid hormones in check and kill any interest very quickly.

Unfortunately, as Keith soon came to learn, Shiro was a nice guy. Not just nice like Keith, who had learned how to talk to people and present a version of himself that was palatable to both the public and the people in charge of making decisions about his career. No, Takashi Shirogane was one of those rare people in the entertainment business who was legitimately as kind as he seemed.

Keith first got a chance to talk with him at the table read, where the entire cast came together to review and “act out” the script without leaving their seats. It was mostly for the writers, to get a feel for how the dialogue flowed and determine where changes needed to be made. It was also a chance for the actors to get comfortable with their parts as well as get to know each other a bit before the real work began.

As the main lead with the most lines, Keith had to be present to work with all of the groups. For the pilot episode, he and Shiro would actually only have a few scenes together, since most of the rest was establishing the story, the characters and the setting in a captivating way. The cast was large enough that the director and producers decided to break up the table reads into multiple sessions to make the process easier and less confusing. Of course, the bulk of the main cast for the pilot episode was in the first group.

Which included his co-star.

Shiro pulled out the chair next to Keith, labeled with his name on a cardboard tag sitting in front of his place at the table. That bright, sunny smile hit Keith right in the chest again as he looked up at his new co-worker.

“Hi there. Guess this is me?” Shiro asked nervously as he sat down in his seat. His eyes slid away from Keith to scan the rest of the large table and the people milling around the room.

“Yeah. Congratulations on getting the part,” Keith told him. It seemed like a safe way to start the conversation, anyway. “Are you excited?”

Shiro’s gaze came back to Keith, his eyes wide as he answered seriously, “Scared to death, actually.”

He did look a bit like he might lose his breakfast, if the slightly green tinge to his skin was any indication. 

Keith couldn’t help but take pity on him and chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure no one here bites.”

“Good to know.” Shiro looked around the room apprehensively, as if he wasn’t quite sure he believed it. “Not sure that helps the intimidation factor any, though.”

“Why’s that?” Keith asked, picking up his script to flip through it, trying to channel his nerves by keeping his hands busy. “I know you’ve done this before. You were in a few shows, right?”

Shiro swallowed and stared at him, his face awash with anxiety. “Nothing like this. Just small parts. I’ve always sat at the other end of the table. You know, I’ve only been doing this for a couple of years? God… I don’t belong here…”

With a sympathy borne from having been in the exact same position himself just a few years ago, Keith placed a firm hand on Shiro’s shoulder to stop his spiraling. He forced himself to look directly into the other man’s gorgeous tawny eyes. “You’re good. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t deserve it.”

Shiro let out a sigh, and Keith could feel his muscles relax somewhat beneath his hand. “Thanks.”

“I see my stars are getting on well already!” exclaimed Coran, suddenly standing beside them. Keith hadn’t even noticed him. He quickly dropped his hand from Shiro’s shoulder, turning to intercept their director before his energy could make Shiro any more nervous. The man was a lot to take in on a good day, let alone with an upset stomach.

“Yep, we’re good,” Keith intervened to save Shiro from responding. “Are you ready to get started?”

“Just about!” Coran answered, clapping his hands to get the attention of the rest of the cast and staff in the room.

Everyone fell into place, and the group quickly went through introductions and got down to work.

Over the course of the rest of the preparation and physical training required for the role, Keith learned a few important things about Shiro. On that first day, he noticed how Shiro really threw himself into his role, making notes on his script and unafraid to ask questions about his character or the dialogue. He was friendly to everyone and incredibly polite, but not in the fake annoying way Keith often saw from other actors (and practiced himself at times).

When they started doing fight training, Shiro’s kindness became even more apparent. He made a point to lend a hand to every person he saw that needed it and was eager to help out any of the other actors in any way he could. He wasn’t obnoxious about it, just friendly and easy-going in a way Keith found himself wishing he could emulate.

Physically, Shiro was well suited to the part of Lan Wangji and the type of series they were making. And when they began the few sessions needed to cover basic martial arts, he found that his co-star was a standout.

“I did a lot of karate when I was younger,” Shiro explained as he reached out a hand to help Keith up from the mat for what felt like the hundredth time.

Keith wondered how much “a lot” covered when Shiro could run circles around everyone else in the room, and even their trainers couldn’t stop commenting on how great his form was. Since he and Keith had been paired up — “to help with their bonding”, Coran informed him — it wasn’t long before the trainers completely ignored them and left Shiro to basically instruct Keith on his own.

Which would have been fine. They were getting along well, and Keith was managing to control all of his baser instincts and desires — even _with_ Shiro shining like some kind of god under the gym lights, a light sheen of sweat sparkling on his pale skin, bulging muscles on full display through the long sleeves of the tight black compression shirt he wore.

Keith pushed his thirst into a corner of his brain and locked the lid tight. He would not be some gay disaster in front of a guy he barely knew and had to work with for the next few weeks.

And then, Shiro began correcting Keith’s form.

What started as touches here and there on arms and shoulders, turned into a hand on Keith’s back and then his ribs. Shiro didn’t have any way to know the effect he was having, but every time his hand landed on a new spot, Keith’s breath caught in his throat until he began to worry he might hyperventilate.

He reminded himself that, as a dancer, he was used to this kind of treatment. When he’d been younger and learning to dance, his teachers would often physically maneuver his body into the right posture and positions.

But none of his dance or drama teachers had ever been over six feet tall and so thick Keith wanted to climb him.

The nail in Keith’s coffin was when Shiro slid his body behind Keith’s back, so close they were nearly touching, with one large hand holding his waist just above his hip and the other grasping beneath the forearm Keith held extended in front of him. He was just helping to correct Keith’s stance — he couldn’t possibly be doing it on purpose — but a wave of heat flashed through Keith so quickly it felt like his body was tinder lit with a match. For one brief moment, the thought crossed his mind that he could press back just a few centimeters and place his ass flush with Shiro’s groin.

And with that thought there suddenly came a _very_ inconvenient, slightly hard-but-getting-worse-by-the-second pressure causing a rise in the _extremely_ unforgiving basketball shorts Keith was wearing.

“Fuck!” Keith shouted, bolting two steps forward out of Shiro’s hands and dropping to the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest. “I need a break!”

He took a few deep breaths, trying desperately to get his traitorous body under control, praying he didn’t look as ridiculous as he felt.

“What’s wrong?” Shiro’s voice was full of concern, his puppy dog eyes stuck to Keith with worry. “Are you ok?”

Thinking quickly, Keith grabbed at his calf and muttered, “Just a cramp.”

Shiro dropped to his knees in front of him. “Do you want me to rub it for you?”

Considering the _actual_ problem was in his pants, and he very much _did_ want Shiro to rub it, Keith choked at the question. He fell over into the fetal position on the mat and began coughing from lack of oxygen as his throat closed up in mortification. He must have made some kind of pathetic squeaking sound, because he heard Shiro yell, “I’ll go get someone to help!” and then saw feet running away from him.

Keith wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment.

“Dude, for someone so famous, you have got _zero_ game.”

On second thought, no — obviously shame couldn’t kill a person. If it did, Keith would absolutely be knocking on hell’s door right now.

“Thanks, Lance,” he grumbled sarcastically. “You’re a prince among men.”

“What can I say?” Lance grinned as he plopped down next to where Keith still lay curled on the mat. “I know a damsel in distress when I see one.”

Keith decidedly ignored his friend’s jab. “Do me a solid and tell me about your abuela or something, will you? I need a distraction.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” Lance said smoothly, his voice laced with insinuation. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the big guy away for a minute.”

Shiro returned with one of the trainers, but Lance waved them both off. He’d gotten Keith sitting vertical again and had an arm thrown over his friend’s shoulders, telling him about the latest news from his brothers and sisters back home. It was just the distraction Keith needed and also did the trick at convincing Shiro to go look for a partner elsewhere.

Keith felt bad about throwing him off, but he was quickly learning that too much contact with Shiro was dangerous. Both physically and professionally.

He’d never been so glad that Allura would do almost anything to make Lance happy.

When he’d heard Keith was producing a series — and starring in it — Lance had begged for a role. Though he had no acting experience at all, Lance had argued that his dance experience would be helpful for the choreographed fight scenes, and Allura had given in and agreed to give him a background part. Lance had been so excited that Keith had thrown up his hands in defeat, with the only stipulation being he couldn’t have a speaking part.

Now that Keith was beginning to recognize just how hard it was to be around Shiro, he was glad Lance would be around on set to run interference.

A few days later, Keith’s struggles were not getting any easier. They were going through a day-long workshop on sword fighting, which was a major part of the action for the show. Since it was just a pilot, they wouldn’t be filming any large-scale fight scenes, but there would still be a number of sequences the actors and crew would need to do in order to patch together the story.

They were using flexible plastic swords for safety, similar to what they would be using for filming. The props had to be heavy enough that they didn’t wobble when swung, but light enough to be used effortlessly, and with no sharp edges that could harm the staff. Keith knew they would probably be using many of the same props when filming began in a few days time, dressed up with paint to make them appear to be real on the screen.

Keith had used something similar when he was younger, for a production he was in that involved a sword dance. As the group trickled in to get started for the day, he couldn’t help but pick up one of the props and start swinging it around, sweeping and twirling it around his body in broad strokes. It had been long enough that Keith couldn’t remember the exact steps to the dance he’d learned before, but improvising dance moves — with props or otherwise — was always something he’d excelled at. With his earbuds in place and a song already providing the beat, it was easy for Keith to keep himself busy and avoid boredom for a few minutes while he was waiting.

He’d gotten so caught up in playing with the sword, it wasn’t until he heard clapping and a body blocked his path that Keith’s body came to a stop. He pulled out his earbuds as he glanced up at Shiro, who was smiling at him with a strange expression.

“Wow! You’re really amazing!” Shiro gushed.

Keith could feel his ears redden with heat. “Ah, it’s nothing. I don’t know anything about fighting with it, but I can dance with anything.”

“I know,” Shiro said, looking slightly embarrassed. “Still, that’s really impressive, though.”

Keith shrugged him off, his eyes darting away and looking around the room to avoid letting his gaze linger too long on the other actor. “Are we ready to get started?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said, gesturing for Keith to move toward the other side of the room where the instructors and the rest of the group waited. “Everybody else was scared to come interrupt you, so I got volunteered.”

Keith laughed. “I didn’t realize I was that scary.”

“Maybe just intimidating,” Shiro replied, and from the corner of his eye Keith could swear the man winked at him.

“Ha,” Keith deadpanned, playing it off. He was obviously just imagining things.

A few hours later, Keith was the one finding himself impressed. 

Any ability he had to move with a sword couldn’t possibly compare to Shiro. The man wielded the instrument as if it were an extension of himself — his movements somehow both sharp and fluid. His stance was strong and lethal, and he balanced himself with the sword in such a way that he could twist his body and turn effortlessly. Keith could do nothing but stand and stare at the example of sheer strength and power across the room.

“He’s kind of amazing, right?” Lance commented, sneaking up behind Keith where he was trying to hide his gawking behind a practicing group of extras.

“Who? Shiro?” Keith asked, feigning ignorance.

Lance scoffed at him. “Of course, Shiro. You know, that guy you’ve been staring at for the last five minutes.”

Keith really wanted to argue that point, but found he didn’t have the energy to lie. “How is he so good already?”

“I was working with him a little earlier, and he said his grandfather was a sensei or something?” Lance answered as they watched Shiro working with one of the instructors and practice a set of steps with a swing of the sword.

“No fucking way,” Keith blurted, finally pulling his eyes away to stare at Lance. “Jeez, we really did luck out with the casting.”

Lance’s face was a mask of confusion. “What’s a sensei _?_ Is that like a wizard or something?”

Keith gave him a dead-eyed glare, ignoring his friend’s ridiculous question. Instead, the new information about his co-star was intriguing enough to make Keith want to go find out more.

He’d done nothing but steer clear of Shiro since the session began, determined to avoid being paired with him and making a fool of himself again. It was easier to stare at his impressive physique from afar, where he couldn’t be tempted by it. But the man’s background was a lot more interesting than Keith had expected, and he couldn’t help it when his curiosity got the best of him.

With a pat to Lance’s shoulder, Keith straightened his shirt, left the safety of his corner and carefully approached the space where Shiro was practicing. Once Shiro’s eyes settled on him, Keith nodded in greeting, determined to play it cool.

“You’ve done this before, too, huh?” he asked, forcing his gaze to focus on Shiro’s gorgeous face, pink from exertion, and not the beads of sweat trailing down his neck and over the delectable line of his collarbone. A hint of dark hair peeked from the deep v-neck of his blue shirt — long-sleeve again, which Keith couldn’t help but find strange given the physical activity required of their planned schedule.

“Yeah,” Shiro admitted shyly. “I’ve got a little background in kenjutsu.”

“Interesting,” Keith responded, unwilling to admit he didn’t know the difference between kenjutsu and a katana. “Somebody said your grandfather was a sensei?”

“Yes, he was,” Shiro’s voice was proud, with a hint of solemness that Keith recognized from others who’d lost a treasured family member. “He had a dojo in Gardena, where I grew up. I practically lived there until I was about ten.”

“That’s cool,” Keith said. “Wait. Gardena… I’ve heard of that, haven’t I?”

It was rare that Keith managed to get away from L.A. unless the show or event he was doing happened to be taking place outside the city. Still, he’d worked with enough people on set crews that he knew he’d heard of the place before.

“Yeah, it’s south of here,” Shiro explained. “The commute’s a real pain, but all the work is here, so what can you do?”

Keith hummed in agreement. Though he’d been lucky enough to always live in the city, he was well aware of how long it took to get around. “You’re not driving in for this job, are you? Aren’t they putting you up somewhere?”

“Oh, yeah,” Shiro answered quickly. “My agent made sure to get that in the contract.”

“That’s good,” Keith said. “I know it’s just a pilot, but you’re still one of the stars. It would be crazy if you had to drive hours every day to get here.”

Their conversation continued off and on throughout the rest of the day, around being paired up — yet again — for training. It was necessary, since a few of the scenes did involve their characters fighting, and Allura along with the martial arts team wanted to make sure the two people who would be spending the most time on screen were comfortable with their movements.

It was a lot easier working with swords, when there was little chance of coming into any physical contact beyond the occasional knocking together, shoving, or helping each other off the floor.

Mostly it was Keith being given a hand from Shiro and pulled up as if he weighed nothing, though he’d been learning to use his dancer’s skills of balance and footwork to remain upright the majority of the time.

Overall, the experience turned out to not be as bad as Keith had expected. Shiro was surprisingly easy to talk to once he was able to stop focusing on his overwhelming good looks. If he was lucky, Keith would manage to get through filming the pilot without throwing himself at his co-star.

The potential interactions and problems he would be faced with, should the pilot be picked up, Keith was going to leave for his future self to worry about. Getting through the next few weeks with Shiro was enough stress to deal with for the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would LOVE to hear what you think! Also, I literally have no idea how to tag this fic, so I'm open to suggestions :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really (nervously) interested to see what people think about this one! Kudos are wonderful and comments even better :)
> 
> You can also find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/geek_life13)


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